


Possibility

by kyla45



Category: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Relationship Confetti, shameless porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-10
Updated: 2012-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyla45/pseuds/kyla45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t really get it,” Harry muttered, staring disconsolately up at the ceiling, “why’d I have to go and fall in love with Perry?” 50 Harry/Perry sentences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possibility

**#01 - Walking**  
  
Where Perry walked, Harry liked to follow closely, too close, as though he was a lost puppy or something (which hey, he kind of was), so it became a reoccurring incident that he bumped into Perry clumsily, tripping over nothing and clenching hands in his jacket to brace himself -- it was practically a guarantee if Perry stopped too abruptly -- but he found he didn’t mind as much as he should have.  
  
 **#02 - Waltz**  
  
Harry watched a couple on some corny dancing show waltz, quickly getting bored – and a bored Harry was a dangerous one; it made him want to disguise the annoyingly spontaneous (and alarmingly frequent) impulse to be close to Perry -- “Perry, you’re gay, teach me how to waltz!”  
  
 **#03 - Wishes**  
  
“I wish you‘d stop with the--” Perry didn’t stop and Harry had to try very hard not to come off as an over excitable prepubescent by biting back his moans, “We’re in public—nnnah,” …but who was to say a grungy dance club was public, anyway? Harry didn’t care anymore; he buried his face against Perry’s shoulder, breathing hard, “Kay asshole, if you’re gonna do this, fucking do it _right_ ,” and when Perry just sort of gave a quirked smile, Harry was utterly justified in snarling, “find a goddamn bathroom now, Jesus, _now_ ,” and Perry did one better, he helped him to aforementioned bathroom (Harry was stupid with lust, movement was a difficulty) and kindly didn’t point out how desperately needy he sounded as he dropped to his knees.  
  
 **#04 - Wonder**  
  
At times, Perry wondered why Harry had chosen him, not that he had any doubt about how much of a catch he was, but Harry was _straight_ \-- as in ‘knee deep in pussy’ when he could get it (which was never) -- and he vividly remembered how much of a success that first kiss was (granted it had been spontaneous and horrible) but when Perry asked him about exactly _what_ he was thinking, Harry just looked at him funny and shrugged, like it should be obvious, “Well, you’re you and uh, I guess I really like that,” he grinned slowly, “my big bad gay detective, all my own,” and there was a distinctly possessive lilt to that last word, even if he was being his usual idiot self.  
   
 **#05 - Worry**  
  
“What the fuck were you trying to do?” Perry demanded sharply, leaning over him as he checked his vitals -- for his part, Harry looked appropriately guilty, because he could hear the unevenness in Perry’s voice, feel how hot his hands were as they fumbled just slightly -- “I‘m okay,” he whispered quietly.  
  
 **#06 - Whimsy**  
  
“Let’s go on a vacation,” Harry suggested, making Perry glare at him “Why the hell would we do that?” Harry shrugged, “I was just wondering what it would be like to have sex on an Italian beach,” he said whimsically -- unsurprisingly Perry warmed to the idea rather quickly.  
  
 **#07 - Waste**  
  
Sometimes Perry considered Harry’s conversion to man-meat (well, him) a true bred tragedy for all those lonely ladies out there who needed a real, steady _moron_ \-- but he wasn’t sorry enough to relinquish him and sometimes, with a vicious, scary, too-honest intensity, he favored Harry with a fierce pride and thought _he is fucking wonderful_ , and then with a sort of awed reverence, _I am ridiculously happy with him_.    
  
 **#08 - Whiskey and Rum**  
  
“Perry, god, I need you,” he slurred throatily, practically gyrating his hips against him, collapsing into his shoulder, pressing closer, _whining_ and Perry wondered how whiskey and rum had the power to convert a straight man, but couldn’t be concerned when Harry was moving just like _that_.  
  
 **#09 - War**  
  
Harry glared at the snarky, prissy, muscular, stupid-highlights-in-his-hair Mr. Wonderful, who’d been returning night after night, never staying long enough to constitute anything remarkable ( _booty call_ echoed in his head disapprovingly, even if it wasn’t his place to be disapproving at all) but the point being he’d been _returning to Perry_ – and not realizing why he was so bothered, he hissed under his breath one evening on his reluctant way out (the _happy couple_ needed privacy, whether or not it was convenient for him), “Listen up, you bitchy prat, you and me, we‘re going to have a nice talk later,” because really, that guy didn’t _deserve_ Perry and he needed to _understand_ that -- the next day Perry looked at him curiously and said “apparently you scared off Mark,” and Harry didn’t even hesitate before responding, in a bit of a snarl, “ _Good fucking riddance_.”  
  
 **#10 - Weddings**  
  
Perry didn’t particularly like weddings, it was too much frill and cake and goopy love for even his sensibilities and for a while he simmered with the quiet fear that he might have to attend Harry’s wedding and smile convincingly throughout -- so maybe that first night Harry crawled into his bed, awkward, scared, but eager, he sent a quiet _thank you_ up in the general direction of the ceiling -- and it was a thank you for the chance to make sure he wouldn’t have to attend Harry’s wedding, should it happen, as anything but the groom (Jesus, what was wrong with him).  
  
 **#11 - Birthday**  
  
“Happy Birthday Perry!” Harry grinned, holding out his Frankenstein-creation of a small birthday cake, “Idiot,” he said, because the cake really was ugly, but he couldn‘t help the smile because every sugary home made mark of idiocy spoke of something more, the icing in the corner said ‘I’m glad you were born’ -- sentimental, silly; the squiggly, appalling excuse for letters said ‘look, I appreciate your date of birth so much that I actually did this’ and the flowers that looked more like pastel-colored vomit piles, they said ‘Happy Fucking Birthday, Perry’ and the entire cake? crooked and slanted though it was, it spoke a very easy, simple, ‘I love you’ -- it was the best birthday Perry could remember in years.  
  
 **#12 - Blessing**  
  
Harry wasn’t thankful for a whole hell of a lot; he stopped being thankful to some greater power for his luck (it was usually bad luck anyway), he just took things as they came, never really learned to stick with anything long enough to be truly thankful -- but that day, that day Perry wheeled into his hospital room and said something scathing like “so you’re not dead” which really translated to _I’m fucking elated-stupid that you’re okay_ Harry could only manage a garbled “you neither” and for once in his life, he felt it was a blessing from -- _something somewhere_ \-- that Perry was still alive, still with him.  
  
 **#13 - Bias**  
  
“I’m not gay,” Harry breathed, returning a heated kiss, his hands knotting in Perry’s hair as he pushed eagerly against the line of his body -- to which Perry gave him his trademark ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ look, making Harry backtrack slightly, muttering “Well, uh, maybe I’m just biased, y’know? I’m Perry-gay.”  
  
 **#14 - Burning**  
  
His body burned, a shivery white hot searing sensation at the best of times, or the type of heat that made it so there wasn’t enough air in the room, made him embarrass himself, clutching and choking and keening and _too soon_ \-- and he was slowly realizing that this was a type of heat that only Perry could induce (and of all the world, Perry had been predestined to be like _the one_ or whatever, and he was an absolute bastard about it).  
  
 **#15 - Breathing**  
  
Harry gasped brokenly, groaning at the pain bursting everywhere, ignoring the sting behind his eyelids because he had to get up, he had to help Harmony but -- _Perry’s not breathing_ and his world felt narrowed down to a fine point with nothing but Perry’s stupid not-breathing and the painful whip of dangerous panicky grief.  
  
 **#16 - Breaking**  
  
Harry felt something breaking when Perry kissed him, but it was the good kind of break, like a levee or enormous brick wall and he was relieved, felt whole in a way that didn't make sense to him.  
  
 **#17 - Belief**       
  
“I don’t believe you,” Perry barked, maybe too harshly, glaring if only to cover his mixed emotions and Harry shrugged, “So let me prove it to you, then,” and there was a glint in his eyes, sly even as it was deathly serious.  
  
 **#18 - Balloon**  
  
One might say his balloon of ignorance, his bubble or, oh, _his sanity_ had been popped through mercilessly with a very sharp pin the first time he woke up, sweaty and out of breath, his dream clinging in wisps being his eyelids, and he shivered, digging the heel of his hand into his crotch with a whimper -- which sounded suspiciously like ‘Perry.’  
  
 **#19 - Balcony**  
  
Harry sometimes wondered which of them would be standing on the balcony, if they happened to be living in a Shakespearian play, but he later decided they’d probably be rolling around in the grass below like perpetually horny teenagers.  
  
 **#20 - Bane**  
  
The bane of his existence -- and this wasn’t a mild hatred, or even a tolerable one -- was something mundane but deceitfully so, it was fucking spaghetti, because there was _no way_ anyone should look so sexy eating it, much less Harry.  
  
 **#21 - Quiet**  
  
“Would you just be quiet for one fucking second?” Perry demanded sharply, his nerves frayed as he glared at his friend on the hospital bed and for once, Harry listened, knowing there was no anger in his regard; he reached out his hand, gingerly nudging Perry’s and he said nothing when Perry accepted the invitation and gripped his hand almost painfully hard.  
  
 **#22 - Quirks**  
  
The quirks Perry had originally hated started to become something endearing and pleasant (had they always been?), and so when Harry behaved like a lunatic, Perry pretended to dislike it, hoping his deplorable soft spot went unnoticed.  
  
 **#23 - Question**  
  
It had been a question for the longest time: would they explore the more obvious area of gay sex, and when? Harry always hated the uncertainty of questions, so one day he stormed out of the apartment, bought three bottles of lube (he wasn’t sure which one would be best) a box of condoms, and tossed the bag at Perry’s face with a screechy “there, now, Jesus Christ Perry, would you _please_ fuck me?” and there was an undignified note of want in his voice (even if he was half terrified at the newness and didn’t know _why_ in seven hells he wanted to be fucked so bad, but there it was) -- and Perry just got this slow smile on his face, “Idiot. I already had all of this, you know,” but he gently took Harry’s wrist and led him to the bedroom.  
  
 **#24 - Quarrel**  
  
Perry liked fighting with Harry, if only because it was laughably easy to get a rise out of him and it was practically all they did, bicker and banter and insult, but he was disgusted with himself to realize that he would be, well, disgusted with himself if he ever wounded too seriously.  
  
 **#25 - Quitting**  
  
“I’m quitting,” Harry announced one day, aggravated and pissed off about some argument, and he did leave, in a whirlwind of huffiness and curse words; a mere two hours later and Perry’s anxiousness was at its breaking point but just as he was about to go searching and swallow his pride, Harry walked through the door, darkly muttering something about two- _fucking_ -hours and everything being _Perry‘s fault_ \-- much later he would tell him that he couldn‘t bear the _thought_ of leaving, had freaked the fuck out for two hours, voice hitching when he spat that it had been _terrifying_ and as he explained that it was impossible (leaving you--this-- _you_ ), had been then and was now, Harry tacked on a “fuck you” for good measure and followed it up with a kiss.  
  
 **#26 - Jump**  
  
Harry was easy to scare, ridiculously easy in fact, so even though Perry was initially annoyed by the way his clever scare tactic had sent Harry jumping a foot in the air and barreling into him, it faded when Harry grasped and panted, “Fucking jerk-ass, that wasn’t _fair_ ”-- but then, he didn’t even attempt to untangle Harry, either (and that wasn’t so bad, Perry didn’t mind that).  
  
 **#27 - Jester**  
  
Harry had always been a clown, the jester when it served his purposes, sarcastic and aloof when he could manage it, all to keep himself distanced and protected, but when he clutched at Perry, flushed, panting and whimpering in stilted, breathy groans, Perry knew he wasn‘t joking around in the least (and if he needed extra proof, well then there was the way Harry gasped desperately into his mouth and held on until he was sure there‘d be bruises).  
  
 **#28 - Jousting**  
  
“Oh fucking--aahh,” Harmony’s eyes widened, “Nnh, _Perry_!” her date turned to her, white faced, glancing uneasily at the door, “What are they doing in there?” she cleared her throat, “They’re just, uh, y’know, play wrestling, yeah. Like jousting, nothing to worry about!…But why don‘t we go to the bar ahead of them, okay?” she giggled nervously as another loud moan drifted through the door.  
  
 **#29 - Jewel**  
  
The woman who had hired them was an old lady, looking for her granddaughter and just as they were about to leave she said, “You two really are precious together, like a pair of jewels, you are,” and they looked away: Harry embarrassed and speechless, Perry amusedly uncomfortable, though they each wondered if they should laugh or correct her, because they _weren’t_ a couple -- in the end, neither of them bothered.  
  
 **#30 - Just**  
  
“Just...” Harry faltered, “Just what, idiot?” Harry tightened his arms around Perry, huffing, pressing his face into Perry’s neck, “Just stay here.”  
  
 **#31 - Smirk**  
  
Harry had first hated his smirks, mainly because they were always mocking and made him want to scream in agitation; but it wasn’t long until those same smirks had him conditioned like fucking Pavlov’s dog, only, as a bonus to the slobbering, it gave him a raging hard on too, his body getting all hot and shivery in anticipation -- and Perry fucking knew and did it anyway, took special delight smirking _the_ smirk to end all smirks in very _inconvenien_ t situations -- the bastard.  
  
 **#32 - Sorrow**  
  
It was a new experience, feeling the pathetically maudlin twinge of sadness in his chest whenever he saw Harmony and Harry together, but then again, it was ten times worse when Harry staggered through the door drunk to shit, eyes red rimmed, whispering “it didn’t work, Perry...”  
  
 **#33 - Stupidity**  
  
Perry called him a moron at least five times a day, even during sex, but the first time Harry had mumbled a spontaneous, almost cavalier, “I love you and like -- a lot, Jesus, so I‘m telling you,” Perry had called him stupid in such a tender tone that it might as well been a confession, too.  
  
 **#34 - Serenade**  
  
They watched old musicals on TV, and Harry was appalled to say that they’d watched West Side Story so many times he was able to recite all of _I Feel Pretty_ flawlessly.  
  
 **#35 - Sarcasm**  
  
“Yea Perry, obviously ’cause I’m head over heels in love with you,” he drawled sarcastically -- and it was all apart of the stupid undercover job they were on, pretending to be a couple (Perry seemed to have a _need_ to come up with the most homosexual-themed activities for them to partake in), but Perry looked at him strangely, and the thing was Harry didn’t do so good with strange looks, found himself panicking because well -- he’d always known the best way to lie was to include some of the truth, or a lot of it…or all of it.  
  
 **#36 - Sordid**  
  
In the shower, Harry dropped his forehead against Perry‘s chest, breath uneven as the other man cleaned him _very_ thoroughly, “W-Why are you doing this again?” he managed, and Perry responded with a soft “You‘ll see, idiot” -- afterwards when Perry pushed him kneeling against the bed and disappeared behind him, Harry hissed at the first sensation of mouth and -- _oh god_ \-- tongue, collapsing helplessly on his arms and pressing his face against the mattress, “Perry, that’s--” but Perry only hummed, “What, gross? You seem to like it,” he said complacently, and with his ass in the air and his muscles tensed and his cock jutting out against the sheets, Harry really couldn’t argue the empirical evidence, “I’ll show you,” Perry said and Harry stuttered on an affirmative, disarmed by the achingly gentle tone, the confidence, and his absolute trust in Perry.  
  
 **#37 - Soliloquy**  
  
“I don’t really get it,” Harry muttered, staring disconsolately up at the ceiling, “why’d I have to go and fall in love with Perry?”  
  
 **#38 - Sojourn**  
  
He was only walking to the convenience store for a pack of smokes, it wasn’t even that far from where they lived, and yet he was fidgeting with his change at the cashier’s because he was so eager to get back to Perry, couldn’t stop thinking about just _going home._  
  
 **#39 - Share**  
  
Perry wasn’t the type to share -- despite knowing that (and despite all the ways in which Perry continually proved otherwise, sharing so much with Harry) the first time Perry offered some of his ice cream, Harry had felt all warm and gooey in his tummy, even with the brain-freeze he’d gotten from the cold treat, as if ice cream from him meant the world or something, meant more than the shared house and life and laughs -- it was fucking ridiculous -- but he grinned warmly at Perry anyway.  
  
 **#40 - Solitary**  
  
“You’ll turn into a hermit,” Harry had said, to which Perry had vehemently disagreed, and yet still, the idiot insisted on _being_ there all the time and somehow, somehow Perry didn’t think he could go back to a solitary life ever again, _especially_ not one that didn‘t have a Harry in it.  
  
 **#41 - Nowhere**  
  
Harry hadn’t been going anywhere special, just to a big place called nowhere, but with Perry he always felt like he was going _somewhere_.  
  
 **#42 - Neutral**  
  
“Do whatever you want, I don’t fucking care,” Perry intoned neutrally, not looking at Harry because he knew he had hurt him, didn’t have to look at him to know that, didn’t want to.  
  
 **#43 - Nuance**  
  
Harry did this thing -- and that was fucking descriptive wasn’t it, that’s what all bad porno writers resorted to: ‘did this thing with (insert pronoun, adjective, appendage and eroticism)’ -- so, Harry…well, he was sure it wasn’t supposed to be so earth-shatteringly wonderful, but sometimes he would stop -- walking, talking, eating -- and _look_ at Perry and say “Jesus, I love you,” and his voice would be fond and astonished and a little choked, quiet in the sudden silence; it was different than the other times Harry said it-- and the fact that he seemed surprised anew each time, like he had to keep saying it because the feeling kept growing, and it was the nuance of those three words that never failed to make Perry’s heart squeeze tight.  
  
 **#44 - Near**  
  
It wasn’t like he was gay, and it wasn’t as though he liked Perry that way; he just liked being near him, impossibly close, always together -- and well, okay, maybe he had some issues to sort out.  
  
 **#45 - Natural**  
  
He used to think that it wasn’t natural, in the way that peach flavored ice cream could be naturally good tasting for some, just not for _him_ (he’d been pretty straight cut for as long as he could remember, so it was beyond jarring to be imagining himself with Perry) but now as they rocked together in a frenzy, he couldn’t think of anything he‘d rather be doing, anything more inherently _right_.  
  
 **#46 - Horizon**  
  
For so long, Harry hadn’t had a horizon to look hopefully onto when a new day started or one ended, but he decided none of that mattered, because as long as he could keep looking at Perry, that was all the fucking looking he needed to do.  
  
 **#47 - Valiant**  
  
Maybe it wasn’t the most valiant thing to do, Perry thought, looking down at the nameless man, but he needed a distraction from Harry, and he needed it bad -- and damn it, why did he want someone he couldn’t have?-- it was the very pinnacle of bad romance novel pit-falls, tasted of the deplorability of people who couldn’t _accept_ what they couldn’t have, went on wanting it anyway like a stupid fuck, knowing they’d only end up hurting in the end and he wasn’t one of those people, damn it, he wasn’t -- “Who’s Harry?” the nameless man underneath him queried, a knowing look in his eyes even for the flush on his face and Perry, appalled, wondered when he’d let the name slip.  
  
 **#48 - Virtuous**  
  
Cutting Harry off from sex (his own personal punishment) had been an interesting experience -- Harry was prone to sidle close, beg, demand, and growl in frustration when Perry didn’t listen --  but it was entirely satisfying to walk in on Harry self-servicing himself while whispering his name in a groan, then startling, looking up with wide, clouded eyes, “Come _here_ ,’” he’d groaned and Perry had laughed cruelly as he walked away, not oblivious to the moan/screech of anguish that followed his exit (and he couldn’t be faulted one bit if he’d promptly went for a cold shower).  
  
 **#49 - Victory**  
  
“We won, didn’t we?” Harry asked, smug and enthusiastic and Perry nodded his affirmative, biting back his remark that detective work wasn’t about _winning_ because he was more thankful for the breath that still filled Harry’s lungs, that fact a victory all on its own.  
  
 **#50 - Defeat**  
  
“Sorry Perry, you lost,” Harry said excitably, haphazardly scattering monopoly pieces, “I want sex now, that‘s my prize and I want it hard and fast,” his face was already flushed and Perry intoned a very low, “you sure about that, chief?” ridiculously smug even in defeat.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted at LJ and FF.net under the same username. I recently went and edited this thing like a crazed woman on a mission. SO here we have it. Some silly, fluffy, porny sentences because this movie was so very heterosexual ~~and these two own my soul~~. Clearly the heterosexual movie needed a heterosexual tribute as well. 
> 
> ~~Oh but just ignore the nonexistent and horrible grammar.~~
> 
> Leave me a word, darlings?


End file.
